I struck out in the College World Series.

I also hit a game-winning home run against LSU on ESPN. Both at-bats taught me something — and honestly, the strikeout taught me more.

That is the part of baseball nobody prepares parents for. Your athlete is going to fail in front of you, in front of their teammates, and in front of people whose opinions they care about far too much.

How they learn to handle that — not their swing path, not their exit velocity — is what determines how far they go and whether they still love the game at eighteen.

Here is what I have learned coaching hitters on Long Island: you have more influence over that than I do. Not through instruction. Through the questions you ask in the car, the way you react in the stands, and whether your athlete believes your love for them is tied to a batting average.

The Car Ride Home Is the Most Important At-Bat of the Day

The fifteen minutes after a game — whether they went 3-for-4 or 0-for-4 — shapes how your athlete processes failure. Most parents blow it without realizing it. Not because they are bad parents. Because they care, and caring people want to fix things.

Two questions only

  • “Did you have fun?”
  • “What did you learn?”

That is it. No analysis. No swing tips. If they want to talk, let them lead. If they are quiet, let them be quiet. Give it 24 hours before any real conversation about the game. Emotion clouds learning — for them and for you.

Praise the Process. Never the Outcome.

When we praise results — “You got a hit! Great job!” — we accidentally teach athletes that their value is tied to the scoreboard. A .300 hitter fails seven out of ten times. If they feel bad every time they fail, they are going to feel bad most of the time.

Ask about the process instead

  • Did you have a plan going into that at-bat?
  • Did you swing at good pitches?
  • Did you compete with two strikes?
  • How was your approach compared to last week?

Those are the questions that build hitters. The hit is a byproduct. On the bad nights, celebrate what they can control: effort, preparation, how they treated their teammates, how they carried themselves between at-bats. Those things are always available, regardless of the result.

Confidence Is Not Built on Game Day

Parents ask me how to help their athlete feel confident before a big game. The confidence has to be earned in the weeks before it — mostly at home, mostly without a coach present.

Consistent reps beat heroic reps

Fifteen honest minutes a day outperforms a three-hour Sunday. Nothing builds belief like knowing the work is done.

Watch the highlights, not the bloopers

Review video of their best at-bats. Most athletes have a detailed mental library of their failures and almost none of their successes. Fix that ratio.

Walk to the plate like you belong there

Shoulders back, deliberate pace, chin up — regardless of how they feel inside. Posture leads mindset far more often than the reverse.

Help them build their own words

Two or three affirmations they actually believe: “I'm prepared. I've done this before. I trust my swing.” Self-talk is a skill, and it is trainable.

When the Game Gets Big

Pressure is a privilege. It means the moment matters and your athlete was trusted with it. The skill is shrinking the moment down to something simple. In big situations the mind wants to run a checklist. Remind them: one job, one breath. See the ball. Hit the ball. Mechanics are for practice.

“I have to bat with the game on the line” versus “I get to bat with the game on the line.” Same adrenaline. Completely different body.

The work is already banked. The at-bat is not the time to earn it — it is the time to spend it.

How You Talk About the Game Is a Coaching Decision

When you offer swing advice from the stands or the car, you are not helping — even when you are right. Two voices giving instruction creates a hitter who trusts neither. Your role is bigger than mechanics. Leave that part to me.

  • Be their biggest fan. Not their second coach.
  • Ask questions instead of lecturing. “What did you work on today?” opens a conversation. “You need to keep your hands back” ends one.
  • Separate the athlete from the person. Your child is more than a batting average. They need to hear that on the 0-for-4 nights specifically.
  • Point out growth they cannot see themselves. Better pitch selection. A tougher two-strike approach. Better body language after a mistake. They will not notice it. You will.

Here is the real test: if your athlete had a terrible game, would they still look for you in the stands? If the answer is yes, you are doing this right.

The One Sentence That Covers Everything

“I love watching you play.”

That is the whole sentence. You do not need to add anything to it. Say it on the good nights. Say it on the 0-for-4 nights. Say it after the strikeout that ended the inning. Say it when they made the error. Your athlete needs to know your love for them has nothing to do with their batting average — and they need to hear it, not just believe it.